The Seer (51 page)

Read The Seer Online

Authors: Kirsten Jones

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Contemporary Fiction

BOOK: The Seer
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It leapt into
view with startling clarity in a rainbow of yellows, blues, greys and greens
and a more confusing shimmer of turquoise that made Mistral frown.  Why
would he be amused?  Setting her curiosity aside she pushed her mind
further, reaching out into his, to
See

Ce’st
possible!  Victoire est possible …

Mistral listened
to his thoughts, trying to disguise the frown that creased her brow.  She
could hear him; but she couldn’t understand a single word... 

‘Ah, mon ami,
il est temp maintenant pour le lit.’

Pierre’s loud
announcement broke Mistral’s concentration.  She blinked dazedly and
Fabian’s hand immediately reached out to take hers, the warm pressure pulling
her from her trance.  ‘Merci Pierre, jusqu'au matin.’

They walked in
silence along the corridor to their room, listening to Pierre clattering around
in the kitchen once again.  The bang of cupboard doors opening and closing
punctuated by the sound of him muttering curses under his breath.  Once
the door to their bedroom was closed and locked, Fabian took hold of both her
hands and gazed intently at her.  ‘Could you read him?’

‘Yes.’
 Mistral sank down on the bed with a disappointed look on her face. 
‘But I couldn’t understand a damned word!  I tried to listen out for some
of the words you were saying to me the other night, but I didn’t recognise
any.’

‘I should hope
not too.’  Fabian murmured.  ‘That would be most inappropriate. 
Could you read his aura?’

‘Yes. 
Thankfully it seems that auras have a universal language.  But I don’t
think it’ll be very helpful.  He was feeling everything from worry to happiness,
oh, and something had amused him ... probably me feeling ill –’ Mistral frowned
and glanced out of the window.  Stars twinkled brightly over the dark
outline of the mountains; the setting was beautiful, almost too perfect …
something just didn’t feel right.  ‘He’s a bit, well ...
odd
, isn’t
he,’ she finally said.

Fabian smiled,
‘Eccentric maybe.  But he has lived a long and almost completely solitary
life in the mountains.  It is bound to have had an effect on him.’

‘Yes, but the
way he was looking through the cupboards!  It was like he didn’t know
where to find something in his own kitchen!’

‘How many
times have you managed to lose something in your saddlebag?’  Fabian
countered.  ‘He is unused to having guests Mistral, perhaps he truly
didn’t know where to find extra bowls.’

Mistral stared
out of the window for a while longer before she turned to look at Fabian, ‘What
does ‘victoire’ mean?’

Fabian
frowned, ‘Victoire?  You heard him think that?’

‘Definitely. 
It was the one word I could remember.  He thought it a couple of times.’

Fabian gazed
thoughtfully at her, ‘It means victory.’ 

‘Dinner was
alright but I’d hardly say it warranted that description!’   

Laughing
softly, Fabian walked over to sit beside her, ‘I would have to agree with you
there, however, there are many possible explanations for why he would be
thinking of victory.  He could simply be expressing relief that his life’s
work will continue to exist in the sanctuary of the Isle.’

‘You mean the
unicorns?  You think that he sees Mage Grapple paying him a pittance for
one of the last surviving herds of unicorns as a victory?’

‘I doubt he
has little regard for money, but I do believe that seeing the ensured safety of
his beloved herd is a victory of sorts for him.’

‘Maybe.’
 Mistral’s tone was unconvinced.  ‘But I still think there’s
definitely something not quite right about him.’

‘Well, now you
have successfully read him you will be able to read him remotely and I can
translate.’  Fabian reassured her quietly.  ‘However, I’m sure he’s just
a harmless old Mage, Mistral.  There is nothing to worry about until the
Rochfortes arrive, and that won’t happen be for at least three days.’

‘I could try
to read him remotely now if you want,’ she offered half-heartedly.  ‘It’s
still fairly early, I’m sure he’ll still be awake.’

Fabian smiled,
‘It is still early, but that’s the way of life in the mountains.  They go
to bed early and rise before the sun.  However, I have no wish for you to
read him tonight.  I think that we should remember that this is also our
honeymoon.’

For once,
Mistral awoke before Fabian.  She lifted herself up on one elbow to watch
him sleeping.  Smiling indulgently, she curled a lock of his dark hair
round her finger and released it slowly, letting it fall back down onto the white
pillow.  He did not stir but continued to sleep, blissfully unaware of her
scrutiny.  Without the black pools of his eyes claiming her attention she
was free to study his face and found herself hoping that their son would
inherit his high cheekbones and strong profile.  She smiled ruefully;
knowing her luck their son might turn out handsome like his father, but no
doubt he’d be as reckless and stupid as her.

A faint noise
from somewhere in the farmhouse drew her attention; Pierre was apparently up
and about.  She glanced out of the window, it was still dark, but the
first streaks of pink were just visible in the eastern sky.  It was nearly
dawn and they were going to spend the day rounding up a herd of unicorns. 
Grinning with sudden excitement, Mistral turned back to Fabian and kissed
him.  His sleeping lips responded without hesitation, his arms reaching up
to pull her back against his warm body.

‘Good
morning,’ he murmured and regarded her lazily through half-closed eyes. 

‘Unicorns,’
she reminded him.  ‘You, me and a herd of unicorns!  Remember?’

He smiled,
‘How could I forget?’

‘Pierre’s
already up,’ she said, looking anxiously at the window to see the sky had
already lightened to a pale pink.  ‘Is he coming with us?’

‘He’s going to
take us to where the herd have been overwintered.’

‘Is he going
to help us round them up then?’  Mistral suppressed a pang of
disappointment.  ‘Only I had hoped it would be just you and me.’

An ironic
smile lifted one side of Fabian’s mouth, ‘He’s only going to show us the
location Mistral.  The hard work will be down to us.’

‘Good!’
 Mistral leapt from the bed, reaching for her clothes she continued to
talk excitedly to Fabian while she dressed.  ‘I think we should capture the
stallion first ... the mares will follow him for certain … failing that we go
for any mares with foals at foot; the stallion will definitely try to prevent
us and we can get him to follow us.’

Smiling at her
enthusiasm, Fabian rose and dressed while Mistral kept up a continual flow of
suggestions, not ceasing until they entered the kitchen to find Pierre
muttering to himself as he pulled a tray of slightly burned bread from the
oven.  Fabian greeted him politely while Mistral sat at the table and
watched the elderly Mage moving around the kitchen.  Something in his
manner rang a warning bell in her mind, but she couldn’t quite put a finger on
what.  It was almost as though every action was staged; the grin he gave
her slightly too wide, the laugh too loud … then there was the way he appeared
to be uncertain of the whereabouts of items in his own kitchen ... and he’d
obviously battled with the oven he’d supposedly spent a lifetime cooking
on.  Burned bread?  Was he that unnerved by having guests in his house? 

While Pierre
and Fabian began a conversation Mistral picked at her breakfast and gazed
thoughtfully at the air above Pierre’s head, letting the truth of emotions fill
her vision.  His aura burst forth in a glare of gold and silver … joy,
excitement, and the unmistakable mother of pearl shimmer that signified
hope.  Mistral frowned; his aura had revealed nothing vaguely dark or
devious, but still she couldn’t shake the persistent feeling that something
wasn’t quite right about Pierre.  She listened intently to his thoughts,
trying to remember some words from the incomprehensible stream that assailed
her mind.  She could repeat them to Fabian later ... maybe he would see
what she was missing.

After
breakfast they made their way to the stables and saddled their horses for the
journey.  Pierre rode beside Fabian, preventing Mistral from being able to
reiterate to him the few words she’d memorised from Pierre’s thoughts. 
Determined not to forget them, she repeated them over and over in her mind,
trying to recall exactly the unfamiliar pronunciations without letting her lips
form the words. 

The trail they
followed into the mountains was little more than a rough dirt track, but the
scenery was nothing short of breathtaking.  Mountains soared majestically
into a vast blue sky.  Sunlight glinted on the lingering snow fields, but
where they were riding it was warm.  The first signs of spring were
evident in the flowers blooming amongst the thickening grass of the sweeping
pasture lands around them.  Mistral drew in a breath of clean mountain air
and gazed around appreciatively; it really was beyond beautiful.  She
glanced at Pierre again, chatting amiably with Fabian.  Her Mage obviously
didn’t share her concerns about their host and appeared quite relaxed; nodding
interestedly at whatever Pierre was telling him.  Mistral sighed, maybe
she was just becoming paranoid … no doubt a side effect of spending too much
time with the twins.  Pushing her anxieties to the back of her mind,
Mistral listened to Fabian translating for her what Pierre had been telling
him. 

‘Pierre says
that the long winters make life hard, but they are also the reason it has been
possible for the unicorn herd to have existed here undetected for so many years
–’

And the
Rochfortes …

His unspoken
thought pricked at her earlier apprehensions, drawing her attention back to
Pierre, now riding in front of them in silence.  He seemed to be looking
around a lot more than before, as though searching for something … or uncertain
of his surroundings.  They crested a ridge of grey rock and Pierre
abruptly reined his pony in.  Turning to speak briefly to Fabian he
pointed down into the valley below them then pulled his pony around and rode
away at a fast trot.

‘What was that
all about?’  Mistral asked curiously.

Fabian watched
Pierre disappear from view over the edge of the rise before he replied, ‘Pierre
thinks he saw the spoors of a mountain bear a short way back.  He wants to
investigate more closely.’

Mistral
frowned, ‘A bear?  I didn’t see any evidence of anything larger than
rabbits and alpine foxes.’

‘Hmm, neither
did I.’ Fabian regarded her thoughtfully for a moment before shrugging. 
‘Well, bear or no bear, this is apparently the valley where the unicorns have
been overwintered.’

‘What,
here?’  Mistral gazed down into the green bowl below them, all thoughts of
Pierre’s strange behaviour immediately vanishing.

‘Yes.’
 Fabian smiled and waved a hand in an inviting gesture.  ‘After you
–’

Mistral didn’t
need to be offered twice.  Kicking Cirrus hard she charged over the edge
of the rise and careered recklessly down the steep side, hauling him to a jerky
halt when she reached the valley floor.  Hastily wiping her streaming
eyes, Mistral studied the small valley; breathless with sudden excitement ...
the unicorns were here … or were they?  Mistral’s eyes raked her
surroundings eagerly, looking for any sign of the fabled unicorn herd. 
Fresh horse droppings were clearly visible amongst the tufts of grass, but she
could see no sign of the creatures that had deposited them.

‘Look!’ She
whispered to Fabian when he rode up alongside, pointing down at the tell-tale
impressions of an unshod hoof in the soft earth. 

‘The herd are
here … somewhere.’  Fabian narrowed his eyes to join her in searching the
valley for the unicorns.

Mistral and
Fabian studied the valley.  It was not very large, but the steep sides
would provide protection from the worst of the winter storms.  A wide
stream swollen with melting snow rushed noisily over a bed of brightly coloured
pebbles.  The flat banks were churned up in several places where the herd
had obviously gathered to drink.  Mistral felt her excitement grow at each
indication that they were in the right place ... but where were the herd? 
She frowned, her eyes scouring the sides of the valley again, looking for the
bright animals that would surely stand out a like a sore thumb against the grey
rocks and brown earth. 

After a
several minutes of fruitless searching Mistral let out a low laugh, ‘Fabian?’

He immediately
turned to her, ‘Yes?’

‘Have you ever
seen a unicorn?’

‘Well, no,
there have never been any in existence on the Isle.  However, I have seen
their images in text books.’

Mistral
smiled, ‘Big and white, with a spiralled horn?’

He frowned,
‘That is the standard depiction, yes.’

‘Well, someone
needs to shoot the artist because that,’ she indicated with an amused lift of
her chin, ‘is our herd of unicorns.’

Fabian looked
over to where she indicated, ‘I’m sorry Mistral, but I don’t see anything but
earth and rocks.’

‘Look –’

One of the
unicorns moved, drawing Fabian’s attention to a herd of shaggy brown ponies,
utterly non-descript in every way apart from the long twisting horn that
protruded from the centre of each forehead.

Fabian sighed and
reached for the coil of rope hanging from his saddle, ‘Ah, let this be another
reminder of the stark contrast between dreams and reality.’

Mistral
laughed, ‘I think Clovis is going to be disappointed when we turn up with that
motley lot!  They’re hardly what I expected!’

‘Well
camouflaged though –’

Startled by
the sound of their voices, the unicorns looked towards them.  One pushed
its way to the front and threw its head up, snorting loudly.

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